


Plain To See (You Were Meant For Me)

by foolishgames



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 22:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishgames/pseuds/foolishgames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the boys negotiate wildly differing definitions of ‘kinky’ and ‘vanilla’. Fluffy ridiculousness with sex toys and handcuffs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plain To See (You Were Meant For Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal November 2010. Betad by janescott.

Adam swore up and down that he was totally vanilla, and Tommy actually believed him right up until the first time he showed up at Adam’s house and Adam had his sex toy box open in the living room, contents spread out on the floor and the coffee table.

“Hi, baby,” Adam said distractedly. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, regarding the array of brightly-coloured silicon spread out on the couch cushions with an expression of faint bemusement.

“Um. What,” said Tommy, slightly terrified. There was one there that was lime green and about the size of Tommy’s fist, and it had, like, electrical cord coming out the base, okay. Terrifying.

“Spring cleaning,” said Adam. “I think I have too many dildos. People keep giving them to me.”

“Oh,” said Tommy. He dropped his backpack by the door and picked his way across the minefield of the living room floor, stepping over a tangle of leather straps and what might have been a gimp mask. “So you don’t actually, like, use this stuff?”

Adam picked up a pink plastic thing that had swirly beads in the shaft and a thick base, squinting at it thoughtfully. “Hm? No, I do. I just don’t think I need, like, this much stuff. I wish fans would send me lube instead of toys.” He twisted the base and the thing sprung into life, the whole length of it writhing and buzzing and twisting. Tommy stared, horrified.

“All of it?” he squeaked. The box wasn’t even empty, there were the leather tails of a whip hanging over the edge, ball gags and ring gags and some kind of spidery claw thing on the floor next to it, and a stack of gunmetal-grey beams in the corner that he thought might assemble into some kind of rack to hang people off.

He looked up to see Adam gazing at him with a slightly nervous expression, and immediately felt ashamed for freaking out. It was Adam, for god’s sake.

“This isn’t me asking,” said Adam quietly. “Sorry. I probably should have warned you.”

“It’s okay,” said Tommy steadily. “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting this. I thought you were, like, totally vanilla.”

“I am!” said Adam, looking wounded, and Tommy cracked up, because, yeah, they were sitting in Adam’s living room surrounded by enough sex toys to start a small but profitable business and Tommy had just spotted some bright pink nipple clamps on the coffee table, but Adam was vanilla. They’d been dating a few weeks, fucking a few more before that, and it had been really straightforward so far. Not, like, under-the-covers-with-lights-off-no-talking-once-a-week vanilla, but. They made out and teased each other, then they got naked and traded blowjobs or handjobs, and maybe they would both come like that or only one of them would or maybe Adam would fuck him. They changed up positions sometimes, or changed the order of things, and Adam once tackled him after a show and fucked him in the dressing room, hardly any prep, both their pants shoved down just far enough, Tommy’s cheek smushed against the mirror. 

But it was pretty by-the-numbers, a straight line from A to B, let’s get naked and have orgasms together. Adam introduced him to the wonders of rimming, which Tommy wholeheartedly supported, and now that he didn’t have shows for a while, Tommy was discovering the benefits of a boyfriend who was a classically trained singer – notably, amazing control over the throat muscles and the ability to go without oxygen for long stretches.

But mostly they just had sex, wonderful, messy, enthusiastic sex, as often as possible. Tommy had never slept with someone who enjoyed it so much, who laughed his way through it and made delighted noises all the time and loved to trade lazy early-morning handjobs just as much as marathon sessions of toe-curling spine-tingling hang-onto-the-headboard fucking. It was amazing.

Toys had never been involved.

(Tommy was not opposed to the idea of toys, on principle. But that was a lot of toys.)

Tommy carefully picked up a black dildo with a bulbous head. It was a long way from being the scariest thing to hand, but he was hesitant to touch some of the other things, in case they came to life and tried to eat his head or something.

“Tommy,” said Adam, and Tommy jerked in surprise. “I’m sorry, let me put all this away, and we can have dinner.”

Tommy frowned. “You have this stuff because you use it,” he said. “And you have it out because you want me to see it.”

“No,” said Adam, nervously. “I mean, yes, but I’m not trying to, like, force anything.”

“You have a sex swing,” said Tommy, finally figuring out what that tangle of straps was. ”I’ve only ever seen those in porn!”

“Let’s just go into the kitchen,” said Adam. “This wasn’t a good idea.” He sounded – Tommy looked at him. Adam sounded upset, and his face was red, and he wasn’t looking at Tommy.

Tommy grabbed his hand. “No, sorry, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“It was a stupid idea,” said Adam. He stood up and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Just, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll clean it all up later.”

“You like the sex we’ve been having,” said Tommy. “Either that or you’re a better actor than I give you credit for.”

“Of course, I love it!” said Adam, dropping back to the floor to takes Tommy’s hand. “Everything we’ve done is amazing, you know that.”

Tommy nodded. “You had all this stuff already, from before. Did you use these with your exes?”

Adam went vivid red. “That’s so not what this is about.”

“I know,” said Tommy patiently. “But this is a lot of stuff for just one dude. I think some of this might be two-person stuff.”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, some of it. Some of it was, like, gifts. My friends went through a stage where we thought it was hilarious to give sex toys for birthdays and shit. One year I got about eight dildos. And I was signed up for this website, sex toy of the month thing, for a while. And fans keep sending me stuff, and some gay porn places keep hoping I’ll name-check them if they give me freebies.” He looked around, frowning. “There’s a lot, though. It’s been in storage for a while, I’d forgotten. And every time I get more stuff it gets added to the pile.”

“Did you pull it out for me?” said Tommy, smiling. “Wow.”

“No.” Adam poked him in the ribs. “It was delivered with the rest of my shit. I didn’t want the delivery guys unpacking this, though, and I figured I should get rid of some of it, and.”

“And?” Tommy prompted.

“And I wanted to see if you would see anything you liked?” Adam looked sheepish. “It wasn’t – okay, it was maybe a suggestion, if you wanted to play with some of this. It’s all fun. But it’s not like, I’m not bored or whatever. I’m not unhappy. You’re amazing, and we don’t need, like, props.”

Tommy sniffed and picked up a pair of fuzzy handcuffs between his thumb and forefinger. “Not leopard-print props, no.”

Adam laughed and took them off him. “Okay. Let’s make this the ‘no’ pile.”

The ‘no’ pile grew quite large over the next couple of hours, as Tommy went through and vetoed everything that was neon, animal print, or thicker than his wrist, no matter its intended function, and Adam methodically tested everything that hummed, buzzed, vibrated or heated up and discarded everything broken or malfunctioning.

However, that still left quite a significant pile, and after a while they retreated to the kitchen to eat and plot their next move.

“Okay,” said Tommy, checking the blindfold was in place. “No peeking, alright?” Adam nodded, tilting his head back like he was trying to see under the blindfold, and Tommy took him by the shoulders and spun him and spun him until Adam clutched at him, laughing and dizzy. 

“Now!” he said, and pointed blindly. “That.” 

“Congratulations,” Tommy said, picking it up. “Tonight we’re playing with,” he turned it over, “A big sparkly silver vibrator that has ‘George’ written on it in sharpie. I hope it’s sharpie, anyway, like, I hope it’s not going to rub off.”

“Aww, you found George,” said Adam. “He’s an old friend, you’re gonna love George.”

“I am not,” said Tommy. “That thing is not going up my ass, that’s unhygienic. Get the lube and take your pants off.”

“Tommy Joe, I love it when you go all take-charge on me,” said Adam, and ducked as Tommy threw a rubber dildo shaped like a novelty handgun at him.

They had to find batteries for George, and Tommy insisted on covering it with a condom, because seriously, he did not trust the ink not to rub off and get places it shouldn’t. And Adam was big and squirmy and annoying, bent over the arm of the couch, and he wouldn’t lie still and kept trying to reach down and do it himself, laughing, while Tommy slapped his hands away and cursed at him, and finally Tommy just leaned over and grabbed some fuzzy black cuffs from the coffee table and secured Adam’s hands at the small of his back.

“Now stay the fuck still,” he said sternly, but Adam bounced around and wriggled and complained right up until Tommy got the toy where he wanted and switched it on, at which point Adam made an incoherent noise – his voice went really high – and went limp and trembly. Tommy stroked his back and hummed under his breath – he couldn’t do dirty talk like Adam could, but Adam wasn’t listening anyway. He rubbed his fingers around where the toy was sunk into Adam, pressed it deeper experimentally, and Adam whined and twisted and pulled on the handcuffs. 

“Tommy,” he gasped. “Oh, fuck, Tommy.”

“Stay still,” Tommy scolded, and slapped his thigh, and Adam shrieked and came all over the couch while Tommy laughed himself stupid.

“That was mean,” Adam said, once he’d caught his breath. “That was way too mean.” He somehow managed to get himself out of the cuffs – they didn’t have a key or anything, just a catch – and winced as he retrieved George.

“That was fucking awesome,” said Tommy, flopping onto a clean part of the couch. “We’re keeping him.”

“You fucker,” said Adam, and tackled him, naked and brandishing the used vibrator like a shiv.

Later, after they had left not just George but Algernon and Ernest in the downstairs bathroom sink awaiting proper cleaning and added two pairs of handcuffs, a bottle of warming lube and a couple of cockrings to the ‘keeping’ pile, they migrated upstairs with a pint of icecream and a banana (“for eating, Tommy, don’t look at me like that.”).

“My ass hurts,” Adam complained, sucking icecream off the end of the banana. Tommy vaguely wished he hadn’t come half an hour earlier, because that sight deserved at least a decent blowjob fantasy.

“If this is your way of leading up to a request to kiss it better,” he said, and Adam grinned, bright and happy.

“I would never,” he protested, and rolled onto his belly, eyes gleaming.

“I can’t believe I ever thought you weren’t kinky,” Tommy grumbled, putting the icecream carton on the small of Adam’s back. He had no intention of giving into Adam’s wiles.

“I’m not,” said Adam. “I’m just – I like sex, I like all kinds of sex, I like everything. Kinky’s like, it’s taboo, it’s forbidden, it’s dirty. Sex isn’t dirty.”

“Not even in animal print?”

“Well, maybe in animal print,” said Adam. “Because you hate it so much.”

Tommy laughed. “So me bending you over the couch in handcuffs and, like, tormenting you with a vibrator isn’t kinky?”

Adam rolled over, slowly enough Tommy could rescue the icecream. “I don’t know. Was it?”

Tommy shrugged. “Seems like a kinky thing to do.”

“I reckon kinky’s an attitude,” said Adam. “I’m not trying to push any envelopes with you, honey, or get toys and shit just for the sake of being ‘kinky’.” He slid his hand up Tommy’s chest, around the back of his neck. “I just like being with you,” he murmured, pulling Tommy down. “However I can, okay?”

“Okay,” said Tommy, and let Adam drag him down for a kiss, neck-deep-and-sinking style until breathing was a challenge.

“If you don’t like it we don’t have to,” said Adam, a while later, with his hands buried in Tommy’s hair and his mouth all bruised from kissing.

“You’ll hurt George’s feelings,” said Tommy, and pulled him back down.


End file.
